Chapter Text
“Captain, I found another one.”
The stench of rotten animal flesh carries after their small cavalry squad. Kaeya signals to the knights trailing behind him to stop. He pulls on his own reins, patting Frostpop on the side of the neck once the gelding pauses his trotting.
The knight named Joyce, who has been riding just further ahead of them the whole time, pulls his own steed to a stop on the Cavalry Captain’s left. Kaeya takes note of that, a small happiness bubbling up from somewhere. (He knows it was for his comfort; for his blind spot in his right side, and he appreciates it greatly.) But he cannot show it outwardly. The situation is dire.
In the knight's hands, a limp hare hangs by its ears, clearly dead. Not a drop of blood is left decorating its fur in murderous fashion, nor does it have any blood left in its dried up body. Drained. Or 'dead by vampire'. This is the third one they’ve found in the Nod-Krai Forests. That makes four with the one Ms.Sauer found near her backyard. Each was scattered far from one another.
Is it multiple doing this, or just one? Why would they suddenly start leaving behind evidence, though? Kaeya frowns. The Grand Master isn’t going to like this. “Drop it with the others, if you please.” he waves Joyce on, “Belinda has the bag right now.” Said knight is all the way in the back. The putrid smell presses heavy on the nostrils around her.
“I swear by the Seven, I can't fathom how you can stand its smell, B'linda.” Joyce pulls a face while Belinda laughs at his goodwilled remark.
“Be thankful I’m the only one who won’t throw up at it in long term.” she drops the carcass away in the storage bag holding the others, “Even Captain Kaeya has trouble.”
“I can hear you!” he calls teasingly from the front. The rest snicker in varying degrees before an unsettling, eerie silence creeps between them as they continue their path, hooves crushing branches and leaves on the way.
It’s much too quiet.
Forests are meant to sound alive. Not this one. It's like it knows they're here. Or it knows it houses something unnatural.
Kaeya keeps his eye on all his surroundings, extremely on edge. He knows that at least one of his knights is already covering his blind spot. Darkness is soon to fall on them, and the dreary clouds overhead spell an ominous message, but they also serve as convenient cover for what Kaeya hopes is not what they have to deal with.
He can’t help the feeling that Mondstadt’s peaceful times are coming to an end, if this does become something bigger. The exit the forest safely, and he does a quick headcount while mentally exhaling in relief.
He really, really wishes he’s completely wrong.
He watches the small cavalry group leave, concealed in the shadows. Clouds are a beautiful sight, and twice as useful. But moon be damned, he should’ve been more careful with his prey after finishing with them. Careless, he chides himself.
He can’t even believe he made such a dumb string of mistakes after mistakes after decades of perfecting his dissimulation techniques.
But hunger, after he ignored it for so long, hangs heavy in his mind and his stomach begs loudly for blood now that he’s had a taste of it again. Once, he had the strength and will to resist the siren’s call from the sweet, healthy rivers of crimson that flow through most living beings.
But it’s been… hell, he’s forgotten when he last had a drink of his lifeblood before that first hare.
He represses a violent full-body shiver. Four of the small mammals isn’t nearly enough. He’s going to have to hunt for deer again, however much he hates doing that. They’re the largest herbivores around; he’s got little choice. It’s not like he’ll be able to take a grown bear down in this state.
He probably should’ve paid more attention to his needs sooner, but habits are hard to break. Bad ones especially. And you only regret them once you've broken them. Doesn't that work funnily.
Preparing in advance, he does his odd, self-made gratitudinal gesture to no one in particular; an apology to the lives he took, an apology for living on still, and perhaps an apology to himself, as well.
He cannot hold on much longer.
His throat is parched. His stomach burns. And all he can be thankful for is that the sky is covered today, allowing more time for him to roam in the open. He loves cloudy days. Hates rainy ones, though. Loathes sunny ones, but it's a hopeless cause.
Loathing them won't make them stop existing.
He marches on, listening to the sounds of the forest. He begins the painstaking task of preying for his next meal. It needs to be a big one, so he'll need the extra effort. It will pay off, though.
He must sate this hunger somehow.
Varka hears their voices before they reach the door to his office.
“—free tomorrow, right?” Kaeya’s melodious lilt floats through.
“We are at work right now, Captain Kaeya. There are more urgent matters at hand.” comes the unmistakable voice of his chief alchemist, sounding exasperated.
Their steps echo right outside the door, coming to a halt just as Kaeya teases, “You know nothing’s more urgent to me than your wellbeing, my Kreideprinz.”
Varka can practically hear Albedo’s eye roll. A knock is heard. “Grand Mast—” aaand Varka suddenly wishes that his walls were a bit more soundproof.
Without an ounce of shame, Kaeya opens the door seconds later with his signature all-winning smile and greets him. “Good evening, Grand Master Varka!”
Varka chuckles, setting down his pen. “Good evening, Kaeya. Albedo.” he refrains from pointing out the alchemist’s rosied cheeks. He catches the younger man’s eye, and the latter immediately sobers up. Surprisingly, so does Kaeya. Well, that already doesn't bode well.
“Grand Master,” a frank seriousness laces the alchemist's words, “Something urgent has come to light recently.”
He hands a file into Varka’s waiting hands. The man begins skimming and flipping through the scarce papers, signalling Albedo to continue talking. Hearing it is easier than reading it, despite the fact that he knows the blonde man spares no effort when it comes to his role as Investigation Captain. And this looks like quite the initiative on his part.
“Folks in Springvale started talking around three days ago, and are saying that Ms.Sauer has been warning everyone that the vampires are back.”
Varka pauses his pen twirling and looks up, eyes wide. Vampires. When was the last time he’d heard that word? It was probably in a sentence of praise to him, for supposedly getting rid of all of them. He thought he did, too. He catches onto the name. “Ms.Sauer? That’s the one who–”
“—lives by herself on the outskirts of Nod-Krai, yes.” Kaeya nods. “She told us she found a drained hare a few yards into the forest. It’s a wonder she wasn’t killed. How long are we going to let her keep skirting around the rules? They’re there for a reason.”
“You can’t deny she helped us launch this entire thing, though.” is Albedo’s clipped answer.
Varka’s levels of concern rise. If even Kaeya isn’t joking around and is truly getting down to business, then this probably isn’t the crazy ramblings of that old woman, as she's often prone to doing in her grand age.
“There is evidence already?” If nothing else, he could always be sure that his Knights would get the job done properly before raising half-baked alarms over rumours. No worries about that.
“Correct.” Albedo nods towards Kaeya, “I sent a squad yesterday evening with Captain Kaeya to scope out the forest, and they came back with a total of four bloodless hares.”
The pictures are tucked in the back of the file for Varka to browse, and his old vampire-hunting gears shift forward, albeit rusty. There’s no mistake to be made about the signs on the poor animals: this was indeed a vampire’s doing.
“Could you figure out how many of them there are?” he closes the documents and drags a tired hand across his face. It has been a long day of office work. Not exactly his favourite task assigned to his title. A migraine has started to bloom around his temples. And now, a bombshell just dropped on him.
Kaeya shakes his head apologetically. “By the number of animals so far, and the similar way they’ve been drained, I’d surmise only one, perhaps two, for the distance involved, but with the timeframe, there’s no way to know for certain. Anything is possible, unfortunately.”
Varka curses softly, his mind running. If it is more than one, and they’re starting to show themselves, then this brews trouble. Big trouble. Panic would spread from Springvale to the main city. People will demand answers. He needs answers. Why is this happening? He doesn’t realize he let slip the query out loud until Albedo answers with his own question.
“That’s what I’ve also been wondering about. If they've been hiding this whole time, then why did the animal carcasses show up now? Every single one of them is fresh of at least two or three days.”
“Maybe they’re planning something?” Kaeya pitches in, arms locked in a pensive position, “But that wouldn’t really make sense, would it? Revealing themselves deals them a huge disadvantage. It seems more like they’re getting desperate, or restless, to the point of carelessness. Ah, unless… that’s what they want us to think?”
All good theories.
Varka stands up, running the possibilities through his head. There’s too much risk. Too many unknowns still. He can’t let what happened more than a decade ago happen again. The decision is almost easy. (Almost. He isn't entirely sure why that word is there.)
“If vampires really are back,” he begins, steeling himself, “Then let’s make sure they don’t stay around. For good.”
Looks like another long expedition is underway. He just prays this one won’t be as long as the last.
Both Captains nod resolutely in agreement, and Varka melts, smiling at the two in an attempt to keep the morale. Neither witnessed first hand the atmosphere of permanent terror while vampires were still around. They'd been too young back then. For him, it was a constant in his childhood, and on some days Varka believes the calm too good to even be true before remembering that the peaceful times were thanks to his six-month solo expedition. The one people dubbed his ‘Wild Hunt’.
(Thinking back, that had been a decision dented by anger and coated in mourning. But he’d do it over again. Only without the blindsiding emotions this time, other than the crushing desire to keep his loved ones safe.)
And apparently, that peace was a lie.
He gazes at who might as well be two of his many kids (though they’re all much too old at this point—he doesn’t really care) and sharpens his resolution.
He’ll make sure, with his own hands, that everyone in Mondstadt can live freely, without fear.
One last time. One chance. That’s all he’s giving himself.
.
.
.
“Absolutely not.”
Unsurprisingly, Eula is the first to break the stunned silence after his announcement speech. He has his Captains all gathered in the main hall of headquarters. It is early morning. And the young Lawrence is at the front, arms crossed and peeved something unfathomable. The usual.
Varka stares her down. He wonders what is it that set her off. With Eula, it could be anything. The danger? He gets it, to some extent. None of them were old enough yet to know or care much about what had really happened to the 1st Company other than the fact that they disappeared overnight. And that he left alone the next day, coming back announcing the end of vampires. It was a terrifying period of their history. He vowed it wouldn't happen again, and he won't let it: he has competent, well-trained people around him this time.
“Eula, my dear, you have to understand–”
She cuts him off, “I’m coming with you, of course. I’ll bring Mika with me as well. He knows everything about the Nod-Krai forests, and he has the mapping skills. We can help.”
Varka blinks. And blinks again.
And then he starts laughing boisterously, because of course Eula would say exactly that. The young woman looks a bit put off by the laugh; trying to appear as haughty as possible to cover it.
On the sides, everyone else looks mostly exasperated. Hertha, Note and Skeiron share an old, well-worn look against their Grand Master. The Gunnhildr mother and daughter pair cringe a little at the same time while Kaeya awkwardly laughs along with him, nudging an Albedo who looks like he needs about three cups of coffee and is too tired to deal with any of this.
Varka regains composure, clearing his throat. “Sorry, wrong moment to laugh. I never said I was going alone, Eula, don’t worry. And you indeed raise good points.” he turns to the hall at large, ignoring some rather taken aback expressions, “Very well, then. The Investigation Team and 9th Company have already assisted me well enough in this matter. They took initiative and made the right calls. As such, I will now accept the support of 4th Company Captain Eula, her best surveyor and cartographer Mika, and…”
A team is best built when consisting of four people, he knows this well. Going alone would technically be much safer, but he trusts these people with his life, in return for being trusted with theirs. Rather than distractions or burdens he’ll be too focused to protect, each one of his Knights is a valid addition and an incredible asset in their own ways.
They do amazing on their own, and—and now is not the time to get sentimental.
“I can join!” a bright voice pips from the back, shaking him from his musing. She may be short, but her presence is loud. The lone Outrider Amber smiles at him from between Captains Note and Frederica. “My scout’s abilities are at your service, Grand Master! My cooking skills are still lacking, but I won’t disappoint!”
Varka admires the young woman’s resolve, and she drives a hard bargain; an Outrider's acumen would be incredibly useful for this mission. In his head, he silently admonishes his old friend—Amber’s grandfather. Look how far she’s come . Varka hopes Barbatos lets the elder know that his granddaughter is performing splendidly in the post he abandoned.
“It’s settled, then. I’m not engaging with the risk of bringing more people on this expedition, so I appoint Dandelion Knight Jean,” the young blonde widens her eyes in surprise at being called out, immediately looking towards her mother for reassurance—which the older woman does with a nod— “As Acting Grand Master while our party is away, and the rest of you can divide up how to protect Mondstadt should the worst happen. I trust all of you.”
A mild uneasiness settles in the hall at those words, but Varka is determined to leave on a happy note. He will not fail. “This story must end somehow. And I will make sure it does.”
A beat of silence passes before his Captains begin cheering for him.
“That’s our Grand Master!”
“He did it once, he’ll do it again, for sure!”
And that’s the Mond way: keep it positive until nothing else works. Varka grins toothily.
He must not fail.